


The Haunting

by orphan_account



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, Starbomb
Genre: Even to ghosts, F/M, M/M, Multi, Murder, Ouija, Ouija Board, Reader is a ghost, Ross is an asshole, Slow Burn, Starbomb (Game Grumps), Witchcraft, You hang out with Dan a lot and it gets weird, ghost au, long fic, mentions of past violence, non-corporeal shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-10-23 15:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10722522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When you wake up in the heart of the Game Grumps studio you don't remember anything, not even your own name. That alone is concerning. What's even more concerning is that two people just walked straight through your body like it didn't even exist. Jesus Christ. You're a ghost. What the hell are you supposed to do now?





	1. Hot, Cold, and Desperate.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, tell me down in the comments below! I also take suggestions for additions to the story.

The first thing you experience in your sudden existence is a blinding pain at the back of your skull. Your hand flies up to your hair, gently cupping the spot on your head radiating pain, and you wince. Jesus Christ that hurts like a motherfucker.

You need to get up, get some ibuprofen or tea or an exorcist for this horrible demon-like pain. It’s so intense that you can hear mild ringing in your ears. You don’t remember hitting your head or anything that would cause this sort of pain. What’s going on? And more importantly, where the hell are you? You manage to shuffle yourself into a crouched position, dazed.

You seem to have…appeared in a doorway. Not just a random doorway in the middle of nowhere. A doorway to a hardwood room filled with computers, with a hall outside. Try as you may, there are just no recognizable details anywhere inside the building you seem to be located in. Even if there were, the pain is pretty much keeping your eyes screwed half shut, reducing your vision.

Less than a second later, you hear a man’s voice give a hearty “FUCK” down the hall from the doorway. You jump in surprise; someone else is here. Your heart rate shoots through the roof. Oh god, you must have amnesia. It’s the only reason that explains why you’re in a strange place with random people. _Jesus, what if I got amnesia from being knocked out and kidnapped_? Your brain whispers to you. _What if that man is going to hurt me?_

You’re so lost in your mounting panic you almost don’t catch the woman running past you into the room at the end of the hall, her feet almost kicking you in the kneecaps. You skitter backwards in panic. Did…did she see you?

“Dan? Dan, you alright?” You hear her feminine voice in the other room, accompanied by a low groan. Clearly she didn’t see you, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Yeah yeah I’m good,” comes the male voice again, “The back of my head just freaking exploded in pain, for no goddamn reason.”

“Oh man, maybe you should get that checked out.” The female voice sounded worried and soft.

“No, it’s probably nothing. The pain is almost gone, anyway.” Replies the male, sounding relieved.

Huh. Your head pain is practically gone as well; you hardly even noticed, what with being so focused on the mystery people. It’s at this point that you decide to take your lumps like a woman: You’re going to stand up in the hall and call for them. No use trying to hide. Anyways, if you had been kidnapped wouldn’t they be keeping a sharper eye on you? Yeah. Probably. You hope. Standing up on oddly wobble-free knees, you brush the floor dust off of your faded jeans and soft blue knit sweater. Huh. You don’t remember ever seeing these clothes before, but you chalk it up to your amnesia. The voices at the end of hall pick up light chatter as you hear them draw closer. A small woman with a light streak in her brown hair (and excellently shaped eyebrows), and a lanky man with a curly mop of hair come walking out of the door. Bravely you plant yourself in the middle of the hallway, ready to finally draw some attention to yourself.

“H-hello?” You call down the hall to them. They keep walking closer, seemly unaware.

“Hello? M-my name is (Y/N), I think I need help…” You say loudly. They just keep walking and talking to each other, and you take a step back in confusion and fear as they close the small gap between you and themselves. They don’t stop.

**They go right through you.**

You gasp loudly, feeling a searing heat rip through you like you’re being held over a fire, and stumble backwards. Did they just walk through you? How… how is that possible? You begin to shake softly, a combination of disbelief, panic, and distress filling you up.

Behind you the footsteps stop for a second, and you turn to see the two people jolt to a halt and look at the goosebumps that appeared on their arms.

“Dan.” The woman says, “Did you just get super duper cold right now? Like weirdly cold?”

The man, Dan you suppose, exhaled tensely and rubbed his arm. “Yeah. That was weird.” When the woman gives him a wide-eyes look, Dan groans and rolls his head back in mock exasperation. “Suzy, please. I know you’re all into that occult shit but not every shitty AC vent is a ghost.”

Your feel your heart skip a beat. Ghost?! Wait, you think. Can ghost’s hearts skip a beat? Do ghosts even HAVE hearts? Jesus, now is not the time to get caught up in minor spectral anatomical details.

Suzy’s eyebrows knit, and before you can step back she waves her lower arm through your torso. Your soft gasp turns into a shriek as burning heat seems to cut through your core. Christ on a cross, that FUCKING HURT. You jump back, out of range of any more of Suzy’s surprise attacks. Suzy, on the other hand, is looking at her arm in interest.

“Dan, my arm just got REALLY cold.” She says to the sentient toothpick next to her. He sighs, half laughing and half in exasperation.

“That’s awesome, probably some spooky old man ghost trying to return to the magical ghost afterlife filled with rainbows or something. Look. It’s 1:00 and we have a Grumps Sesh tomorrow. Can we please get going?” Suzy turns her back to you, nodding. They continue to walk down the hall, turning the corner.

_Well, not like I got much of a choice but to follow them_ , you think. As you pad behind them, some desperate part of you still hopes they’ll turn around with surprised expressions, wondering how they didn’t notice you before. Hell, that part of you is all of you. You may not remember much, but you do know you’re only 19, and that you don’t know where you are, and that you don’t even remember your fucking name, and you would give FUCKING ANYTHING to have someone see you, or hear you. You just want someone to help you. Panic swells up in your throat, but you mash it down as best as you can as you round the corner to an entry room.

Dan and Suzy are standing in front of a large door, hoisting messenger bags and purses off the coat rack by the front.

“Sorry again for making you drive me home. I wasn’t done working when Arin left.” Suzy said sheepishly as she straightened her bag strap.

“No biggie. We only live 10 minutes apart anyways.” He replied as he opened the door.

“Wait, no. You can’t leave.” You blurt out in a panic. Shit, you know they can’t see you but you at least know their names! At least there is a micro-chance of you getting help if they stay!

Dan’s long hand flicks out the lights as he and Suzy exit the room. You move to follow them, just catching a glimpse of what seems to be the hall of an office complex before you slam face first into something. An invisible barrier seems to be right on top of the door frame, and you press your fingers against it. No. Oh no no no no no. This isn’t even remotely good. Bile rises in your throat, and you almost choke in surprise as the door slams shut centimeters from your face.

“No.” You choke out as your eyes widen. “No, wait, NO!” You start to sob, raking your fingers down the door in fear. “Please, don’t leave me! This can’t be happening!” You yell over and over, slamming your fists into the door. They do nothing. They don’t leave a mark, or make a sound. You’re a goddamn ghost and you can’t even move through one shitty fucking door.

After a solid 30 minutes of yelling, fist banging, hallway pacing, and fruitless bargaining to the invisible gods, you slide down to the floor and wipe your cheeks with your sleeves. Bullshit. That’s what you’d call this situation. Complete bullshit.

_Why is this happening to me?_ You idly wonder as you get up to mindlessly walk. _What have I done to deserve this? Is this what Hell is actually like? Trapped in a world where you’re completely alone?_

You wander into the main room, an open air area filled in places with computer desks and tables. There is a row of 4 windows on the far wall, and as you gaze out them you can see you really are in an office complex, on the second floor. You can also see the stars shining softly in the deep night sky, above the tops of the building around you. Below, car horns honk and headlights diffuse the room with soft yellows and reds. It’s 1:30 AM, and people still aren’t asleep. Weird. But not as weird as your current situation.

Sighing, you plop down on a nearby padded chair. You notice that the padding you’re sitting on is somewhat dented and curved to your shape. Huh. So you ARE somewhat corporeal. Good to know.

Before you can get your thoughts together, gallons of hot water are coursing down your head and your back. You shriek, leaping out of the chair and spluttering. While frantically wiping your eyes and shaking around to get the water off, you pause. Wait, what the fuck? There is no water. You’re completely dry. And yet you feel the rivulets of hot liquid down your spine, against your face, and on your thighs. What the fuck? Why does it feel like you’re taking a shower?

For the next 5 minutes you pace in anxiety back and forth across the room, feeling the unending surge of showerhead spray on your head and fighting the urge to find a towel. Then, blessedly, the odd torture stops and you feel the sensation of water fade away.

“Ok. Weird. More weird physics-y, non-corporeal, creepy ghost stuff.” You say aloud as you give an involuntary shudder and return to your chair. God, you don’t even want to think about today, but you have to take stock of the facts. You woke up in a strange place with no memory, with two strange people, who walked right through you. One of them knows, or at least thinks, you’re here. You tried to leave the office, but you couldn’t because of an invisible barrier.

Fantastic. You’ve successfully made sense of nothing. Biting back a groan, your head hits the back of the chair. God, if this could all be a dream that would be just fantastic. You yawn and nod in agreement with yourself, suddenly feeling cozy and warm. Yeah. A dream.

You don’t even notice what’s happening as the mysterious ways of the ghost world drag you down into a dreamless, spectral sleep.


	2. Coffee Mug.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those scary ghost movies make haunting look easy. Knocking all those books over like no big deal. It's really not easy.   
> Really fucking not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are enjoying this fic so far, be sure to leave a comment! I am very fan interactive and would suggestions for what you would like to see in the future.

You awaken groggily to the sound of a door being slammed somewhere close, eyes still glued shut from sleep. _Ah, that’s probably your mom or dad coming home_ , you think to yourself through the haze of slumber.

You’re jolted into the morning light as ice fills your veins when you can’t remember your mother’s name. Quick as a flash you’ve skittered off the chair you were bundled in, breathing in heavy gasps. What the fuck, where are you? Your mind is still racing as small man with a fuzzy beard and tired brown eyes shuffles into the main hall, coffee in hand. The fact that he doesn’t acknowledge your existence brings all the memories of yesterday back.

Shit, right. You’re a ghost now.

The bearded man sets down his stuff on a chair near the computer corner, along with his unlocked phone. Seeing an opportunity, you slink behind him to his the desk, in hopes of gleaning some information about the time, or the date, or anything. But the closer you get to the phone, the fuzzier and more filled with static the air around it gets. You don’t notice it until the last second, and right as your fingers make contact with the surface of the phone it makes a very loud static screech and quite literally explodes in a puff of crackling smoke.

The man whips around from his spot by the windows and you wince. _Mm, nice going hotshot,_ you think, _45 seconds into your second day of existence and you’ve already cost someone a couple hundred dollars._

“Oh my god!” The bearded stranger shouts, watching in horror as his phone releases a few final arcs of electricity and wisps of smoke. The poor man knits his hands together on top of his head, clearly exasperated. Turning on his heel, he hustles down the hall and you make quick work of following him.  As you round the corner you make a very interesting (and terrifying) discovery.

You can **float.**

Moving towards the beard man, it took you all of five seconds to realize you had not actually moved your legs and instead were hovering a half inch off the ground.  You jolt to a stop in surprise, and as if a spell had been broken, you drop back onto your feet. You scrunch your lips and decide to put this disturbing discovery on the back burner until more pressing matters have been solved. No need to get all panicky about the basic laws of physics not applying to you right now.

“Yeah, hey Arin, I kind of need you to come to the Grump Studio a half hour early.” You hear the man talking in the hall, and turn to see him on an old cord phone. His free hand is tucked into his pocket and his chin is lowered towards his chest, effectively crumpling his figure. He couldn’t be older than thirty, but he already looked far more tired than any man his age should be. As you pace closer to the cord phone you hear a distinct crackle that, in the last few minutes, you’ve learned means ‘Bad ghostie, no technology for you’. So you walk down the hall, leaving the man to his conversation in private.

15 minutes later, the man walks back out from the hall and you watch him from the comfort of the plush chair under the window. “This is my chair now”, you say aloud, “and you can’t have it because I’m a fucking ghost, and I will make you cold as balls if you sit in my chair.” Of course, the man doesn’t respond, and just proceeds to sit down and boot up a computer monitor while sipping coffee. You sigh, half out of a thick mash of emotions you’ve been repressing since last night, and half out of sheer boredom. They’re really nothing to do when you’re a non-corporeal ghost who can’t touch, push, or move anything. You curl up on the chair and tuck your knees to your chest, stabbing at the foam arm handles with your fingernail.

It might have been the early morning, or the crazy shit you were just put through, but it took you a little over 5 minutes to realize that every time your fingernail poked the foam, it gave way a little. Not the amount it would press down for a living person’s actual hand, but enough that your heart fluttered. Can… can you touch things? Your head spun with the realization that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t be trapped in this hell of invisibility forever. 

Launching up from the chair, you pace over to the man and his computer all the while being VERY conscious as to actually keep your feet on the ground. A cup of coffee sat on the edge of the desk, far enough away from the expensive looking equipment that you weren’t worried about making anything crackle and smoke again.

The man rolled his shoulders and sighs from his chair as he began to work on what looked like a screen full of grey bars and audio files. No wonder the guy’s so stressed out, you couldn’t survive 10 minutes staring at that stuff.

You fold over next to the desk, sitting on your feet and leveling yourself to shoulder height with the coffee mug. It’s got two eyes printed in black and white on the shiny surface, surrounded by the opening of what look like a ski mask and topped with very angry bushy eyebrows. Great. Even the coffee mug is challenging you. Rubbing your hands down the length of your face, you sigh. Time to test your Mad Skillz as a baby ghost.

For the first trial you move your hand through the cup with no intent to pick it up. Your fingers go right through, with no indication of the mug being there at all. Next, you reach to grab the mug with the strong intention of holding it, and to your surprise your palm hits cold ceramic as your fingers wrap around the handle. Your chest flutters gently in excitement. Interesting. _So my desire to interact with objects directly impacts the objects I touch_ , you decide. You hum under your breath, a little frustrated. _The ghost realm has shitty rules._ When you go to lift the mug up it stays glued to the surface of the desk. Not even the coffee moves a little. After a few minutes of using both arms, then your whole torso, then the strength of that plus your legs, you groan. Just when you were making sense of the world around you, things got confusing. _So, I can touch stuff but not pick it up? That’s bullshit._ You make a disgusted face to yourself. Whoever designed the rules of ghost living was clearly a mega douche.

You stand up and stretch a bit. The man cracks his neck and you shiver in auditory displeasure. At least now that you don’t have bones your body can’t make disgusting sounds like that anymore. A few moments later a tiny Om sticker catches your eye, stuck to the dusty back of the monitor. This shitty peeling 99 cent sticker gives you a great idea.

“Ok so like, those mind power movies,” You start to think aloud, walking in a circle around the room, “They always show the main character like, getting into some sort of mantra headspace or some shit. Getting all zen and Buddhist, reaching nirvana so they can move stuff with their brain.” You pause and clap your hands together, "So what if I just clear my whole goddamn head and focus on lifting that mug?” The silence of the room greets you; the universe clearly has no response to your breakthrough.

“Excellent, good work team.” You mutter as you sit back down by the coffee cup and wrap your fingers around its cold surface. _Zen,_ you think, _Zen space._

The world around you grows quiet and less filled with anxious thoughts as you focus on one sound; the rhythmic woosh of your breathe. In, and out. In, and out. After a few minutes you open your eyes, your brain completely blank and your focus present. Now for the moment of truth. You pause.

“Up.” You whisper, and drag the coffee cup upwards with all your might.

It doesn’t move.

That’s it.

“FUCKING COME ON!” You scream, throwing your hands in the air as you turn around angrily, “I’m a NON-EXISTENT LITTLE SHIT, who’s PROBABLY doomed to an ETERNITY of loneliness and ABANDONMENT, and the universe won’t give me the power to LIFT A FUCKING COFFEE CUP?!” Both your hands are full of your hair, yanking it in sheer frustration as anger courses through your veins. Why is this happening to you? Why are you here? Who are these people? What’s have you done to deserve this punishment? You turn around, blindly swinging at the coffee cup and hoping it flies across the room and smashed to fucking pieces.

It, uh.

It does.

As you watch the hot liquid fly out of the cup on its journey across the room, you hold your hands up to your mouth in shock. Did… you do that? Oh my god. You moved the cup. You moved the cup!

Time sped back up again when the cup shattered loudly against the window and the man shout out of his seat, eyes wide. Ok, maybe you did a little more that just _move_ the cup.

You barely had enough time to process the look of dawning horror on his face before hearing the door unlock and two sets of footsteps walk into the main room.

Suzy and some man with a ginger-ish moustache popped their heads around the corner. “Hey Barry, you favorite sexy bitch is here!” The man called to the terrified guy, and proceeded to stop short. “Uh, Barry? Dude? You alright man?”

Barry’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your gaze flies between Suzy and him in a panic. Oh man you really fucked up.

“I- the cup- it just went..flying across the room and I didn’t touch it- and my phone- and now the cup-“ Barry was short circuiting through his sentences, eyes wide and shocked. Suzy hurried up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Slow down, Barry. What happened?” She said calmly in a soft voice. Barry swallowed loudly, still looking wildly around the room.

“I uh,” He said to Suzy, "I need to speak to you in the other room.”

“Ok, ok.” Suzy replies, and is quick to follow Barry out into the hall, giving a nod to Arin. He nods back in mild confusion. As Barry and Suzy round the corner, you can just make out the beginning of their sentence.

“Suzy, I know you texted me saying that there was a poltergeist in the workspace but JESUS I didn’t think you were being serious, like…”

Your stomach dropped to your feet, like a cinderblock attached to a drowning man.

Oh, you fucked up. You very much fucked up.


	3. Orange Peels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can hear you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review or recommend something you would like to see in the story! Comments fuel my writing engine.

Much of the rest of the day was dedicated to you doing little but sitting on your new favorite chair, watching people come and go. New guys, mostly men, were always popping into the office to do something on the computer or talk to each other. Some of them were blonde, some had beards, and one had a faint Australian accent. The sun filtered through the closed window panes slowly, like it had all the time in the world. _This is purgatory_ , You think to yourself, _surrounded by chatting strangers and confined to silence_.

That bearded guy, Barry, went home just a few hours after you threw his coffee mug at the wall. Something about ‘exhaustion and sleep deprivation’, which you didn’t doubt. Thankfully it seemed that the rumors of the ‘office ghost’ were being kept between Barry and Suzy for the time being, which was a good thing; you had no clue what might happen if someone called a priest, or tried a home exorcism. You might die. Again.

 

 

 

You didn’t see Dan again until around 5:00 in the evening, judging by your half-assed time keeping via glancing over shoulders at phones from a safe distance.

“Dog Nuts! Com get your dog nuts, right here!” The lanky toothpick of a man called as he entered the main room with two white boxes. Watching from your curled-up perch on the chair, you saw Suzy, Arin, and the skinny Australian boy barrel out of their own respective working spaces, Arin emitting a girlish squeal. Danny grinned, holding out the open boxes of glazed goodness away from him like he was feeding pigeons, which in a way, he was.

“God, I love having my own Jewish sugar daddy.” Garbled Arin with a mouth full of chocolate sprinkled doughnut. Dan winked back at him as you watched Suzy skitter back down the hall with 2 maple glazes, followed by the Australian who was smuggling a massive pile of confectionaries in his shirt. Danny did a double-take looking in the box to his left, only to discover that 2 of the 17 doughnuts were left.

“Goddamn it Ross, I bought these for the everybody!” Danny yelled down the hallway, earning a respective nefarious laugh from a distant closed door. Arin sighed. Danny just shook his head.

You watched the two remaining men in the room hold a friendly conversation for around 20 minutes while eating some of the remaining doughnuts. It was clear that they were very close, best friends even. This was made clear to you when Arin started to make a violent jerking-off motion and Danny almost fell over laughing.

“Jesus Christ big cat, you’re an idiot.” Dan replied before glancing at his phone. “Oh shit. Time for a sesh.”

Arin stretched and drummed his fingers on his belly. “Are we still doing Zelda?” He asked, trailing Dan as they went down the hall. Dan made an affirmative noise in the distance.

_Doing Zelda? Like, the video game?_ You wrinkled your nose in confusion as you unfold yourself from the chair to tail them. You’re almost completely sure that this is a work studio, a job space. Why would they be playing Legend of Zelda? Are you stuck in a studio with a bunch of slackers?

Just as you reach the end of the hall, a door to your left clicks closed. There’s a tiny window in the middle of it, just out of your eye height.

“Shit. Ok.” You whisper, standing on tiptoe. Still not enough. You sigh. Looks like right about now you don’t have any way to see what is going on behind that door. _Why should I even care?_ You think, brow furrowed, _it’s not like I should even be snooping in the first place! But wait. I’m stuck here. Maybe one of these assholes is responsible for it._ _Hell, I DESERVE to know what’s going on around here! But still, I’m invisible so it’s like, a basic violation of privacy-_

You’re so engrossed in your thoughts that you don’t notice the hands your placed on the door have phased through it up to your elbows.

“shiiiiit.” Your voice wobbles a bit as you yank your hands out in surprise.

Oh yeah, ghost powers. Duh.

You close your eyes, exhale, relax. And step right through the door into the other room.

When you open your eyes you’re surprised to say the least.  Instead of posters or decorations the walls are covered in triangular sound absorption foam. The room is lined with different game consoles, controllers, racks of disks, and monitors. In the middle of it all is a plush couch overshadowed by 2 rigged microphones, facing a large TV. On that couch you can see the backs of 2 heads; one brown and straight, the other wild and curly.

“Ok, capture is going on in 3-2-1… Rolling.” Grunts Arin, leaning over to press a rig by the TV screen.

“Hey, welcome back to game grumps.” Danny says into his mic as Arin unpauses their Zelda game.

“Gay Grumps according to Tumblr, honey.” Arin response in a feminine tone, coaxing a ‘tch’ from Dan.

“Today we’re going to watch Arin fall off a cliff. Again.”

“Oh fuck off, I’ll have you know I’m a certified Zelda professional.”

“Certified, mm? By Whoooom, praytell?”

“By me.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Your heart skips a beat as you take in the scene. The microphones, the screen capture, the game commentary. Oh shit.

You’re haunting youtubers.

Suddenly your legs feel a little weak, and you fold into a sitting position on the floor. Odd, that your hell is being stuck with the most extroverted and public type of people, and you are cursed to be completely invisible. The revelation of this whole studio being a video production zone has brought back into sharp clarity just how shitty your situation actually is. You lean back against the back of the couch, repeatedly hitting your head against the soft plush. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This whole situation is so goddamn stupid! Hot tears prick the corner of your eyes as you slam your head back against the couch in frustration.

“Oh shit, dude, did the couch just move, like a lot?” You heard the muffled voice of Arin through the foam and you freeze.

“Yeah. Probably an earthquake. We’re all going to die.” Replied Danny, and you could hear the grin in his voice. A second later a soft punch landed on someone, and Dan gave a mock scream of pain.

“So Dan, are you enjoying me falling down all these cliffs?” Arin picked up the conversation after a lull.

“Oh, hell yeah. All the cliff-on-cliff action. Super sexy.” He replied.

“Isn’t cliff-on-cliff just fucking…land?”

“Hehe, just Fucking Land. Cliff on Cliff action. Earth porn.”

“Remind me why I invited you to be a grump again.”

“Because you looooooove me.”

“Shut the f-UUUUUUUUUUUUOO SHIT-”

“OH GOD HIT THE SALAMANDER ARIN HIT IT HARD!”

Confused, you peek up over the back of the couch, rising to shoulder level of the two men sitting there. In the screen in front of you, the link avatar is repeatedly duck and rolling away from a giant bipedal salamander cloaked in armor.

“Dan I CAN’T, my guardian sword just fucking broOAAAAA FUCK!” Arin shouted, and you felt the couch move as the on-screen battle ended with a smiley salamander tail thwacking link squarely in his stomach. Arin gave loud groan of frustration before reloading the game. Dan giggled, his wild hair inches away from your face. You hadn’t noticed that you’ve been creeping closer and closer to the screen until you were practically perched on the back of the couch. You blush, turning to stand further back, but freeze. Why should you? You can sit anywhere you want in this damn room, say anything you want, do anything you want, and nobody can stop you. Total and utter freedom.

“Just down a magical elixir or some shit. Kick that lizard’s ass.” You say loudly to no one in particular. Even if nobody can hear you, it’s nice to feel like you’re included in something like a videogame; without it you’d probably feel like the loneliest girl to exist.

“Technically it’s a desert salamander. Get your facts straight you scrub.” Arin replies, and your heart drops into your stomach, icy and panicked. You slam a hand over your mouth. Did- he just reply to you?

Dan turns to Arin, brows knitted. “Yeah, I- what? Arin, I was the one who told you it was a salamander.”

“Then why did you call it a lizard, Danny? Amphibians and reptiles are different. Trust me, I know things.” Arin replied, eyeing Dan from the corner of his vision.

“I didn’t call it a lizard. I… didn’t say anything?” Dan retorted, clearly confused.

“Yeah, you did,” Said Arin, “You said ‘just down a magical elixir or some shit, kick that lizard’s ass’ .“

Danny laughed, head lolling back on the rim of the couch. “Dude, I think we’ve been playing for too long if you’re starting to hear invisible commentary on fuckin’ salamanders.”

You back away slowly from the couch, heart still beating rapidly as Dan and Arin start to end the outro.

“mmmmmmnext time on grimp gramps.” Dan whispers into the microphone.

“Arin GOES CRAZY.” Arin interjects, his head bonking against Dan’s to get access to his mic.

“Ow, fuckin- dude, don’t bippepty bonk me.” Dan grumbles as Arin shuts of the video capture.

“I can’t believe you just said bippety bonk.”

“I can’t believe your face.”

“oh, smooth.”

Dan stands up and stretches, woven blanket falling from his shoulders as Arin relaxes into the couch and blows a raspberry.

“Do you want an orange?” Dan says, walking to the door.

“Bluh, so healthy. Yeah, I’ll have one.” Arin replies as he sinks further into the couch.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you take a step towards Arin, pulse hammering in your chest. Did he really hear you? It’s too goddamn good to be true.

“Can-“ You cough the dryness out of your shaky throat, “Can you still hear me?”

Arin groans, rolling to his side and setting his head on an arm rest. “Yeah, I can still hear you, why?” He loudly calls out the room door, clearly thinking it was Dan. There was no response, so he rolled back into his relaxed position, almost sliding off the couch. You gulp. You could stop now, and not escalate this situation any further. Or you could press onward and risk Arin having a freak-out, or worse, ignore you.

“It’s Arin, right?” You say shakily, stepping closer to the side of the couch. “I’m (YN).”

Arin sits up, quickly looking around with a furrowed brow. “Suzy?” He calls, scanning the room, “Are you pranking me again?”

You begin to wring your hands, nervousness filling you stomach with cold lead. “I’m not Suzy. Please,” You take another step forward, “Just tell me you can hear me. Please.”

Arin’s eyes go wide, and he opens his mouth to respond just as Dan comes back with 4 oranges. The curly-fry man stops short in the doorway when he notices Arin staring in your general direction in shock. “You ok, big cat?” He asks with a slight frown.

“Dan…” Arin turns, gazing up at him, “I think I need to go to sleep. I just heard a girl talking to me.” His face is pale and a little bit spooked. Danny slumps down on the couch, spilling the oranges onto the blanket between them.

“What did she say?” Dan inquires softly, peeling an orange while Arin continues to scan the room. It’s unnerving to have someone’s eyes pass right over you.

“She said her name was (YN), and asked if I could hear her.” Arin replied. Raking a hand through his hair, he heaved a sigh. “Maybe I should go catch a nap in the break room.”

“Mm, before you do that, tell Suzy about the ghost.” Dan says, words jumbled by the orange slice in his mouth. Arin responds with an immediate scowl of disapproval.

“We’re not being fucking haunted, Dan. I’m just tired.” He pauses for a second. “Why did you want me to tell Suz?”

“Because, mmf,” Dan hastily swallowed the last of the fruit, “Last night when we were leaving the studio she was convinced we walked through a ghost in the hallway.”

Arin struggled to keep his eyes from flying open. “How are you not bothered by this, Dan?”

Dan laughed, peeling his second orange. “Because ghosts don’t fucking exist, Arin. Obviously.”

“Clearly they do.” You retort loudly, then proceed to slam your hand back over your mouth. Arin’s head whips to the side to face you, eyes wide. Danny’s eyes slowly follow his gaze, his face concerned.

“Arin, buddy? You hearing voices again?” Dan says in a concerned voice. Arin nodded, wide-eyed. Danny sighed. “Ok, man, just go have a 20 minute nap on the bed ok? You haven’t been sleeping well.”

Arin nods again, standing up rigidly from the couch. _Shit,_ you think, _this is my opportunity. God I gotta do something._

“Wait, please,” You call out, and Arin freezes mid-step, “I can prove it, I’m here, please don’t leave me alone. Please.”

Arin has paused in the doorway, head turned away from you. At least he’s listening, so you continue to talk.

“Uh, shit. I didn’t really think this far,” You stammer loudly, “Uh. Oh wait I know, yeah. Tell Dan to ask me questions and I’ll tell you the answer.”

Arin doesn’t say anything, and you start to choke up. This is your one opportunity, your one chance at reconnecting with the world again.

“Please. You’re the only one who can hear me,” you choke out, balling up your hands, “Please don’t leave me, I don’t want to be alone.”

A few moments of silence pass, with Dan watching Arin with worry and caution from the couch. The room is silent except for the soft hum of the Nintendo and the heartbeat thudding in your ears. 

Slowly, Arin turns around.

“Dan.” He says quietly.

“Yeah, big cat?” Dan replies softly, as if he might startle Arin. He clearly thought his friend had suffered a mental break of some kind.

“Can we try something?”


	4. Fingers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for testing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review or a suggestion! I live for comments.

Dan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Just go to bed, Arin.”

You and Arin both say ‘please’ in quiet unison, and Dan’s head recoils just slightly; almost like he could hear the faint echo of your voice.

“Ok.” Dan grunts, hoisting himself off the couch, “I’ll humor you. But Jesus, Arin, go to bed as soon as this is over.” Arin exhales heavily and runs a hand through his hair. Your gaze flickers nervously between him and Dan, knowing Arin could freak out at any moment. His eyes are red with lack of sleep and heavy stress, plus he’s clearly torn up by this new situation.

“Ok, uh. Go stand on the other side of the wall in the hall, and hold up any amount of fingers. She’ll- “He pauses, exhaling, “I’ll tell you how many you’re holding up.” Dan gives Arin a wary look as they trade places, Danny walking out of sight into the hallway and Arin perching nervously on the couch arm rest, constantly tucking stray hairs behind his ear. A few moments pass before Dan coughs impatiently outside and you spring into action. You hurry over to the doorway and poke your head out to see Danny leaning up against the crème colored wall, holding his hand down by his side, pinkie finger out.

“One.” You turn your head and call to Arin, who jumps a little. To be fair, you would probably be scared too if disembodied voice started loudly shouting numbers 5 feet from your face.

“One.” Arin repeats loudly. His voice cracks a little and he swallows dryly. When you poke your head out into the hallway again, Dan is no longer leaning against the wall but standing straight, eyes searching for any way that Arin could have seen his hand. He takes a few steps back, then holds up his fingers in a quick succession. 4, then 7, then 2.

“Four, seven, two.” You call to Arin, who repeats the numbers back to Dan. Dan’s brow creases even further, and he holds up a middle finger quizzically. You can’t help it, you have to stifle a giggle; it’s such a childish move in such a tense situation. “Damn,” You mutter, “Now that’s just rude.”

“What?” Arin says softly, notes of fear creeping into is voice, “What did you say?” You clearly scared him by not sticking to the plan. He probably thinks you’re some sort of meddlesome poltergeist like those scary viral movies always claim ghosts are.

“Sorry,” You reply quickly, “Dan just flipped me off.” The corner of Arin’s mouth twitches as he swallows thickly.

“Dan, please don’t flip off the studio ghost.” You hear a muffled ‘jesus christ’ before Dan walks into another room down the hall. A few seconds later he returns, Suzy in tow. She looks seriously surprised, her giant headphones falling halfway off her head as she bursts out anger over being snatched from her desk. “Dan, what the hell, I’m trying to wor-“

“Arin, just fucking tell her.” Dan interrupts, mouth set in a hard line. He had never believed in ghosts in his entire life, not once. He was visibly shaken; angry, even. Scared.

“Suz. I- I’m hearing a ghost.” Arin says in an extremely quiet voice, shoulders tense. Suzy’s eyes go wide as both her hands fly to her mouth, the room going silent again as the living people seem to process the truth of the situation.

“Is…It here?” Suzy asks after a few moments, eyes running over where you’re standing as she surveys the room in obvious excitement. No matter how many times someone does that, it still makes your blood run cold. “She.” You and Arin correct at the same time, and the stressed man turns to face the direction of your voice. Suzy and Dan follow suit, staring intently at you but not seeing you. It almost makes you cringe, feeling self-conscious despite your obvious transparent nature. With a huff, you watch as suzy starts to roll up the black sleeves of her blouse up to her elbows.

“Suz, what are you doing?” Asks Arin.

“I’m going to make contact.” Suzy says confidently, taking a step towards you and holding out her hands on either side of her body. “Last night, I was sure I bumped into a supernatural entity. The direct temperature dropped nearly 30 degrees in a concentrated area, a common and well-documented sign of phantom activity.”

Wow. She really knows her stuff.

“Anyways,” she continues, turning to address your general area, “Hello. My name is Suzy Barrow. I do not want to hurt you. I’m going to ask you a couple of questions, and I need you to answer how I tell you to answer. My right arm,” She lifts up her right hand slightly, “means yes. My left arm means no. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You say tersely, nervous about having to touch her skin. Last time you were put in the way of a living human, it burned your skin like fire. Arin reacted to your sudden answer with a slight twitch, the nodded to Suzy. She closes her eyes and exhales while Dan leans back against the door frame, foot tapping nervously.

“Ok. You’re a girl, right?” Suzy asks. You summon up your courage, square your shoulders, and tap the center of her right hand with four fingers. It feels like passing your hand over a candle flame; perfectly safe, but only if you did it quickly. Yes.

“Are you a child?”

No.

“Are you over the age of 20?”

No.

“19?”

No.

“18.”

Yes.

“Are you mad or angry?”

She was testing you, checking you out for signs of volatile behavior. You never liked scary paranormal movies, but even you knew that an angry ghost was a bad ghost to be around. No.

“Are you scared?” You pause, a lump in your throat. Yes.

“Do you want to hurt anybody here.?” You rapidly tap her left arm. No, no, no. She nods. “Just a few more questions left. Can you lift objects?”

Yes.

“Is it hard?”

Yes, yes, yes.

“Can you do that for us right now?”

You tap her right arm unsurely, looking around for something to pick up. There’s not much around in this room that’s not carefully stacked, plugged into something, or glued down. Finally you spy a plastic game cartridge sticking halfway out from underneath the couch, and you kneel down to face it. More than ever you need your ghost powers right now. This is your chance to prove your true existence to the outside world, and become more than just a cold touch to most.

“Cmon, please. Please work this time.” You mutter, flexing you fingers before placing them on either side of the plastic square. You hear Arin shift to look over the couch back, following your voice. The grey plastic feels cool under your fingertips, dusty from sitting on the carpet floor for so long.

You close your eyes, breathe deeply. And lift.

After a few seconds of dead silence, you squeeze one eye open, expecting to see empty hands. But no, lo and behold, there sits a thick game cartridge in your two hands. You’re holding it. It feels like it weighs 10 pounds, but you’re holding it! You rise shakily to your feet under the soft yellow light of the room, holding the game like a baby bird. As you tear your eyes away from the miraculous sight, you see three open jaws in the room all pointed at you. Suzy’s eyes are bigger than saucers and are filled with a sparkling delight, while Arin looks like an alien just landed in front of his face and offered him a slice of fresh cheesecake. Danny, however, has his hands laced on top of his head and is shifting back and forth, processing the situation by repeatedly looking back at the game cartridge then away at the corner of the room, unsure of what he was seeing. Silently Suzy extends her hands in a flat platform, and you unceremoniously dropped the cartridge onto them as softly as possible. As soon as you let the game go, your arms flop to your sides, feeling like you just bench-pressed 100 pounds. Suzy’s face lights up and she clutches the game tightly like a Christmas present, whipping around to face a startled Arin.

“Arin.” She says.

“Y-yeah?”

“I'm getting my Ouija Board.”


	5. A Broken Rib

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Ouija Board is called into play as the truth grows clearer, and Dan has a revelation.

The room was silent for a few moments.

  
“Nope.” Said Dan, already halfway out the door, “I’m out.”

  
“No no no you can’t leave, Dan!” Suzy screeched, latching on to the back of his shirt. He stumbled backwards as she yanked him back through the doorway with an indignant grunt. “Listen, let’s just try this one time, please. I’ve never met an actual ghost. Just five minutes with the Ouija Board! If it goes badly we can move the whole grump studio, I promise.” Suzy desperately bartered with the tall man, who was avoiding eye contact with her.

  
A few tense seconds later, Arin piped up in a terse voice. “I’m willing to try. It’s just a little girl. If shit goes south, we’re ALL leaving, but don’t you fucking dare leave me alone with a ghost, Daniel.”

  
You turn to the ponytailed man, feeling the soft glow of thankfulness. You really weren’t expecting anybody to handle this situation with any consideration on your behalf; if you were alive and knew there was a ghost in a room, you’d be miles away by now. Dan clenched his jaw in response, giving a terse nod. He couldn’t say no when he knew Arin needed him here for support.

  
“Thank you.” You whisper, but he just tenses up again. He’s still clearly uncomfortable with being the only one who can hear your voice.

  
Suzy rushes out of the room, calling to a few other people down the hall whose names you can’t quite hear. Dan and Arin sit in uncomfortable silence, not looking at one another. Both their bodies are oddly tense. You can’t tell if it’s because of anger, or confusion, or poorly concealed fear.

  
You know, it’s probably poorly concealed fear.

  
Suzy returns in a bluster of chatter with two men in tow; a thin Australian with bright blue eyes, and a much older man with salt and pepper hair and a permanently gruff expression.

  
“-So I asked her a bunch of questions and I got some REALLY interesting answers so you know I just HAD to get my Ouija out and see if it would work!” She finishes her ramble right after she’s thrown down the board and wooden pointer, abruptly crossing her legs and sinking into a crisscross seat. She then yanks the Australian’s arm, and he collapses into a sitting position right next to her. He just looks mildly bored, like he’s willing to go along with just about anything right now. The other man has his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised practically into his hair in disbelief. He points to Arin and Dan.

  
“And you two…are just going along with this? Even you, Ross? You know that ghosts are just natural phenomena through the warped perception of a panicked person, right?” He says disapprovingly, staring down his nose at the Australian on the floor (who just yawns), then at the two other men. Arin and Dan exchange a look of quiet apprehension but say nothing.

  
“Can you stop being such a critical guy for two seconds, Brian? If it doesn’t work you can go home and laugh happily and bathe in the glory of your scientific literature or something.” Suzy cuts in, motioning for Brian to sit down. He sighs like he’s indulging a kid by joining their imaginary tea party, but settles down on the carpet nonetheless. Arin and Dan take their cue and quickly move to the empty spaces around the board, albeit quite a bit further back than the rest. You pad over as well and scooch into the center. Not really sure what you’re supposed to do, you crouch next to the board and wait as the room grows somber with the realization of what they’re about to do. Even Ross sits up straighter and tenses a bit.

  
“Ok, let’s start now.” Says Suzy, placing one black-nailed finger on the pointer, “Everybody put one finger on the back of the pointer.” The men hesitatingly do so, and you have to quickly dodge a few outstretched arms lest you get speared with the white-hot heat again.

  
“Spirit, we have heard you calling and we answered. Are you here?” The gentle woman says softly as you run your hands through your hair. Now is your time to shine. You have to prove to everybody that you’re here, you’re real, that you need help. But you also have to make sure they all know you don’t want to hurt anybody and that you’re just lonely and afraid. With a shaky breath, you place two of your fingers on the pointer and try and move it. It’s incredibly difficult to make it move at all with the weight of 5 people’s hands pressing down on it, so you give the cold glossy arrow piece a quick shake. All five hands retract quickly as if they had been stung, mouths gaping in surprise all around the circle. You hear a gentle ‘what the fuck’ whispered under Brian’s breath before you move the pointer over the printed ‘hello’ on the board. Your fingers hurt from pressing so hard; moving this tiny piece all over is easier than lifting the game cartridge, but it still feels like shoving a 10 pound weight around with just one hand.   
“Oh my god” says Dan, moving to get up, but Suzy slams him back down with surprising force.

  
“Don’t break the circle.” She responds forcefully, and he looks terrified. Now that she mentioned it, as soon as you entered the circle the air around you started to thrum with a mysterious energy. Is this what opening the rift between physical and spiritual realms felt like?

  
“Now,” She continues with her gaze locked on the pointer, “What’s your name?”

  
You carefully spell it out, and she reads the full thing out loud like a translator. Before she can ask you another question, you snatch the piece again and fumble to give them some information you feel is very important, information that could prove you were a person and not a malignant spirit.

  
“ _I’m really sorry…about breaking the coffee cup_.” Suzy sounds out your rapid spelling. “ _I didn’t…want… to scare anybody… sorry again._ See?!” She interjects, looking absolutely delighted at the others around the circle, “I knew that this was a good idea! She didn’t mean it, she was probably just testing her abilities!”

  
You confirm her happy suggestion by resting the pointer on the Yes print. Brian’s whole face is gaunt and pale, eyes wide. Next to him Ross has both hands balled into fists so tight that his knuckles have gone a pinkish-white. Suzy seems oblivious to the crackling fear that has descended over the others in the room, and continues to rapid-fire questions at you.

“Where are you from?”

  
_I don’t remember._

  
“How long have you been here?”

  
_Two days I think._

  
“How did you get here in the first place?”

  
_Woke up on floor. Felt like I hit my head._

  
“Wait. What?”

  
You sigh, flexing your fingertips in a half-assed attempt to improve their circulation. Your hands are starting to get sore from yanking the pointer around, and you wish there was a better way to communicate. Maybe it’s time to talk to Arin again.

  
You turn to the large man, clearing your throat. He immediately looks in your direction, apprehension on his face. “I’m sorry to bother you again,” You say meekly, “But is there a better way to talk to everybody?”

  
Arin pales considerably, clearly still hating the whole disembodied-girl-voice thing. Suzy scooches closer to him and rests a hand on his arm; she seems to know intuitively when I’m speaking to him.

  
“What did she say, hun?” Suzy asks as the whole room watched with fearful gazes.

  
“She asked if there was a better way to talk to everybody.” He says shakily.

  
“Oh yeah, I can’t use a keyboard or anything. I ruin electronics.” You tack on.

  
“But she can’t touch electronics so no keyboard.”

  
Suzy nods slowly, biting the inside of her lip. “She can’t use a keyboard, no technology, so what…” Suddenly her eyes fly open. “I’m going to break the circle, I’ll be right back!”

  
Before you can object she’s on her feet and out of the room. As soon as the circle around the board is broken, the pointer turns to a dead weight under your fingers, no longer movable at all, and you grunt in exasperation as you yank at the glossy wooden piece. It won’t budge anymore. Panic starts to flare inside you; you had a method of communication, a line to everybody, and now it’s gone. Oh god. What if you never get it back?

  
Your out-of-control train of thought is broken when Suzy swings around the corner carrying…a typewriter? She pushes the board out of the center and gently places the giant iron contraption in its place. It’s got a crisp white sheet of printer paper on the top, and all the separate metal parts shine despite its old age.

  
“One of my favorite vintage items!” She proclaims, “I keep it in top shape. I hope you can use it!”

  
It dawns on you that she’s talking directly to you, treating you like a real person. Just that small courtesy is enough to dissolve your apprehension towards the giant clunky thing, and you place both hands over the keys like a regular keyboard.

  
The first button you hit, the letter H, slams down with a satisfying clunk, and you gasp loudly. It works! Oh my god, it works! You can talk to everybody! _Hi!_ You type rapidly, _My name is Y/N, I’m 19, and oh my god I am so glad to be able to talk now. Please don’t be afraid! I have no idea what’s happening._

  
“This isn’t possible.” Says Brian coldly, and you look over to see his face is icy and closed off. He’s gone from fear to protecting his beliefs with cold disbelief. “If this is some sort of trick, I’m going to leave right now.”

  
You lick your lips nervously as your heart rate increases. You should have expected this. You should have expected the anger, the disbelief. _Please,_ You type quickly, _this isn’t a joke. How can I prove this isn’t a joke? I’m scared, I need help._

  
“Why are you here?” Dan suddenly said, repeating one of the questions you had already been asked. The curly-haired man looked absolutely fried, aging 40 years from the sheer stress of this ridiculous situation.

  
 _I have no idea!_ You reply quickly, _I woke up a night ago on the floor. I felt like I had hit my head really badly. When I got my bearings I heard Suzy helping you up from hitting your head as well. That’s all I know, I swear._

  
Suzy looked shocked. ‘You mean, you appeared exactly when Dan hit his head?”

  
_I think so? I mean, I can’t say for sure._

  
“Oh my god.” Suzy gasped, two hands flying up to her face, “What if you and Dan are connected?” Dan, sitting next to her, shook his head back and forth in a wide-eyed gesture of please god no.

  
Your hands fly back to the keyboard. _When you and Dan left the studio, I couldn’t go past the door. It’s like I was trapped here. And then around 30 minutes later I felt like I was stuck under hot rain, for some reason!_

  
Suzy grabbed a handful of Dan’s shirt. “Did you take a shower when you got home last night?” She demanded, inches from his scared face, and he nodded in confirmation. _Oh my god,_ you typed in response, _I think I felt that._ But that still doesn't explain how you and Dan have even a remote chance of being connected.

  
Before the room can go silent again, Dan speaks up in a very rough voice. “I did just get a bone transplant two weeks ago.”

  
“What?!” Arin exploded from his silence. “Why didn’t you tell me? Dude, I’m your best friend, you could have at least mentioned getting an operation!”

  
Dan physically winced, guilt scrawled across his face. Clearly he hadn’t told anybody in the circle, since they all were wearing shocked expressions. “Look. It’s not that big of a deal. I was shooting a music video and managed to get a hairline fracture on my third left rib. The doctor said I should just take it easy, but a few weeks later I went back in for the pain in my side. The fracture had splintered from overexertion, so they just went in there and put a marrow transplant from an anonymous donor in it for stabilization.” He hunched his shoulders. “It really wasn’t a big deal. You’re all working really hard, and I didn’t want to give you any more things to stress about. I can handle myself.”

  
“You should have fucking told us, Jesus!” Objected Ross, “If we knew we wouldn’t have made you do half the stuff we made you do!”

  
“Yeah,” responded Dan angrily, “That’s exactly what I was worried about.” He visibly ground his teeth as the room fell into tense silence again. You swallowed dryly, knowing you had to ask the one question nobody wanted to ask.

  
 _Was it my bone that was transplanted into you?_ You typed slowly, each loud clack agonizing.

  
Upon reading that sentence Dan’s long sinewy hand flew to the side of his chest in alarm, clasped over the place that was clearly where the incision was. Everybody watched as he exhaled heavily, looking back and forth between the ceiling and the typewriter a few times, clearly thinking. Quick as a flash, he brought his fist down on his injured rib with enough force to make him hoarsely shout, buckling over. At the exact same time, splintering pain radiated through your chest and you screamed aloud, clutching your side. Everybody in the room jumped, and Suzy let out a trembling breath; your scream was so loud, so full of energy, that everybody in the room heard it on some level.

  
“Well.” Dan said, face white with pain, “I think that answers our question.”

  
“Oh my god,” Suzy gasped, “You’re a ghost conduit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like this chapter? Be sure to leave a comment! I love to read what others have to say about my story.


	6. Don't Be Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a ghost sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rise from the grave to give you this short chapter! More on the way, I promise.

There was a whirlwind of commotion immediately afterwards. Arin reached over to Dan in a panic (who was still doubled over in pain), Brian shot up and left the room muttering something about “absolute bullshit”, and Ross’s face split into a slow grin.

“This,” He said as he slowly nodded, “…This is fuckin’ cool.”

“How the fuck is this cool, Ross?!” Arin snapped back from across the circle, arm still around a cringing Dan, “This studio is fucked. It’s not safe to be here. I don’t fucking LIKE this and neither should you.” His long hair hung in front of one eye; he looked tired, and pissed as hell. You honestly can’t blame him. His world has been rocked and the truth that life and death don’t intertwine has been proven a lie. And the studio, his home base, is under siege from forces he doesn’t understand. 

Still, you can’t help but be equally upset, emotions rising to meet his unsteady levels of anger and fear. You wrap your arms around yourself, the dry stirrings of crying starting to tug inside your chest.

“Pissed? YOU’RE pissed?” You say hoarsely, still on your knees by the typewriter, “What about ME? I woke up alone and scared in a place I’ve NEVER seen before, and all you do is treat me like shit!” You can’t help it, your eyes are heating up and your vision is starting to blur. “You’ve been an ASS to me, doubting me, treating me like I’m not human, like I’m something to be afraid of. Do you seriously think I want to be here? With you? I FUCKING WANT TO GO HOME, ARIN! And I don't even know where HOME IS!” 

Arin has been looking up, face pale and drained the whole time you’ve been on your tangent. Dan, under his arm, still has his fingers splayed over his rib like a protective webbing, but is trying his best to sit upright. The four people left in the circle, Arin, Suzy, Ross, and Dan, are completely silent as Arin inhales shakily. 

“…Why was it me?” Arin says quietly. You watch with apprehension for what the tired man is going to say next. “I-I’m sorry. I still don’t really think….why was it me, out of all people? Why not Dan? It makes so much more sense.” He pauses, pulling a hand down his face. “I, uh. I just want you out of my head. I just want somebody else to deal with this.”

Your mouth fills with a bitter taste. So that’s how he feels. You were SURE out of all people in this goddamn cell block of a studio that he would be the most accepting of you. He could HEAR you. He HAD to acknowledge you as a real being, an actual person. But instead, you’re just a weight. Just a nuisance. You reel back a bit until you rock onto your heels, face a cold mask as you chew your lip.

“Hmm. Y’know what?” You say in a casual voice, masking your hoarse distress, “Go fuck yourself, Arin.” Satisfied with the shocked eyebrow raise you seem to have given him, you whirl to your feet and blindly speed-walk out of the room, sending a little stack of papers on the desk by the door flying from the wind. Turning the corner at the very end, you march angrily down a second hall filled with shelves of Amiibos, blow past a shoji-screen wall, and come to a stop at a dead end wall covered in vaguely 80s Japanese posters. Jesus Christ, is this whole place an office or a playground? No wonder these people have been acting so poorly. They’re like children. Powerful children, with microphones and strong internet connections. 

By the time you discover you’re marched into a kitchen, your eyes are already hot and blurry with unshed tears. You’re tired. You just...so tired. Tired of these people, tired of these winding halls, tired of Arin and Dan and tired of not being able to remember anything about who you are as a person. 

The air from the half-open window nearby is pleasantly cool against your hot cheeks as you shuffle to sit at one of the booths in the dining area. The sound of heavy traffic and birdsong has diminished significantly and the crickets have begun to sing; it must be evening outside. As you slump down into the plush corner seating, the electrical light above you flickers in disdain of your ghostly presence near it. The fact that one of humanity’s basic tools is completely rejecting you makes your mouth sour, serving as an unpleasant reminder of your status as an outsider, AND the fact that you can’t eat anything. You tuck your feet under you and watch the last beams of daylight drag across the reflective kitchen counter top for a few minutes before disappearing into purple twilight. 

You  _ HATE _ it here.

* * *

 

You don’t know how much time had passed before you heard the sound of footsteps in the hall, and a soft voice calling your name questioningly. On the brink of nodding off into sleep, you look up with bleary eyes to see Suzy with the typewriter in her hands, standing in the kitchen doorway and owlishly scanning the room. Her eyes lock on the light flickering ominously above you, basically serving as a ghost beacon, and she swallows nervously before entering the room. 

“Listen, Y/N…” Suzy says, standing on the other side of the counter top and setting the typewriter down, “Arin...told me what you said. I think we overreacted. I mean, not in the sense that we should have been 100 percent cool with having a ghost in our office, but…” She sighs, putting both hands on the counter top, “When we figured out that you were a person, a  _ real _ person, we shouldn’t have been that harsh. Oh my god, we were mean to a kid. What i’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. Arin’s scared, Dan’s scared, and everyone else is confused and scared and trying to mask it. But...I want to help you.”

You sigh, partially out of exhaustion, but also out of frustration, and sadness, and fear, and hope, and an apprehension that you would never get out of this dramatic loop of desperately trying to communicate. All you wanted was to talk, to understand what was going on. To understand who you were. The seat squeaks a bit as you heave yourself up and over to the counter, the flickering lights overhead shifting to the ones in the kitchen. Suzy looks around at the lighting change nervously as you settle down into a bar chair in front of the typewriter. 

_ I’m just so tired, and i want to know what’s going on,  _ You type, fingers clacking noisily over the keys,  _ And I feel like nobody wanted to help me figure out what happened to me.  _

Suzy rests her arms on the counter top, watching you the metal keys go up and down. “I know I know, i’m sorry. But i’m here now. In fact,” She lets out a short breathy laugh and ducks her head, “You’re the most interesting and unexpected thing to happen to this place.”

The corner of your mouth tugs up slightly. Not enough to get you to smile, but almost. _ I don’t want anyone to be afraid of me! _ You continue,  _ I think i’m more scared than scary.  _

“Yeah,” Suzy agrees quickly, “I’m trying to get everyone to see that. It might...take a while. But,” She extends her hand palm-up towards the typewriter, “I’m not afraid. I’m here. For you.”

You curl up a hand to your chest apprehensively. The last time you touched someone it felt like fire on your skin. But then again, the heat was much softer when you focused on touching someone instead of it being on accident. Putting all that aside, Suzy is the only chance you got. She’s your shot, your one line connecting you to the real world. You extend one hand out, slowly, ready to lay it palm-down across her own.

You didn’t see the black electrical socket sparking angrily next to your hand before it was too late.

Before Suzy started screaming. 


	7. Neon Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe, just maybe, things are going to turn out ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Holds a stereo playing "I'm Blue" outside of the Game Grumps studio at 2 am) "READ MY GHOST AU FANFICTION"

The scream Suzy let out felt like nothing compared to what you were feeling. You stood there, in shock, watching arcs of blue-white electricity jump out of the socket and connect with your hand as the lights in the room flickered. Hanging lamps started to swing wildly and spark, and sharp wind started to pick up through the room out of nowhere. Suzy had backed up against the wall, hands to her mouth, letting out the occasional muffled cry as the room was lit up in spasms. A split second later Arin was in the room holding Suzy with wide eyes, and Dan was at the doorway repeatedly shouting “WHAT THE FUCK” as they all looked on at you, at what you were becoming. 

_ You were glowing.  _ The electricity looked like it was weaving a blue blood vessel system up your arm, neon blue-white bones illuminating underneath the web shortly after. Your eyes widened as the lights continued to short out and buzz gratingly, a few bulbs popping here and there. The large arcs of electricity kept diving into your fingers with a terrifying sensation; like numb vibrations. More crackling blue energy weaved glowing net and bones up your arm, over your head, down your torso and legs. The three humans in the room stared at you with fear and amazement, and you started back.

And then it clicked.

_ Brian Wecht was right.  _ It DIDN’T make any scientific sense for you to just be a ghost floating around, picking stuff up. Because moving matter takes physical energy transfer, something a spirit didn’t have. But what if it did? What if that small jolt of electricity you got from Barry’s phone gave you enough residual kinetic energy to move the mug, to push the ouija key, to press the typewriter buttons?  _ What if you were MADE of energy? _

Your whole body was glowing now, a perfect anatomical display of neon bones and white capillaries. Suddenly, in a final flash of snapping electricity, a slightly transparent layer of glowing blue-white skin poured from your fingertips outwards, coating your whole body, manifesting as hair, socks, pants, and a soft sweater. Then, the power went out and everything stopped. Everywhere. Before you could say anything to the gasping human trio, there were running footsteps down the hall.

“Is everyone ok?! I was coming to help with the yelling but then the power started going CRAZY and shutting down the computers so I pulled the breaker and- Oh holy shit ghost lady.” Ross blathered as he darted in, then stopped short as he turned towards you. “ _ BLUE  _ ghost lady.”

There was utter silence as they all stared at you, and it was deafening. You cast a soft blue blue across the room, the only source of light save for the purple-ish sky leftover from the sunset. Dan was the first to break the quiet.

“No  _ fuckin’  _ way,” He breathed, hair puffy and wild from the wind, “It’s  _ you.  _ You’re Arin’s ghost.”

You gulp, suddenly acutely aware that everyone could see you. For the first time, you  _ wished  _ you could disappear. You take a deep breath, a bit distracted by your now blue and glowing hands. You hold them in closed fists at your side, floating just a few inches off the ground. 

“Hey.” You say, voice high and nervous. Suzy, Ross, and Dan’s jaws drop. “My name is Y/N. Hi Suzy. Hi Danny. Hi Arin. Hi Ross.” You turn to them each in succession, giving a little conserved wave of your glowing hand.  

“Oh my god.” Suzy replied immediately, walking towards you despite Arin’s blatant grabs to stop her. “It’s nice to meet you, holy shit.” She extends one hand slightly upwards to meet your floating stance. Tentatively, you grasp in a handshake and she immediately gasps. You jerk your hand away, apologies already on your lips. “Oh my god, I’m electricity, I should have known it would hurt, I’m so sorry, I’ll-”

“No, no, I’m ok, really.” She assures you, rubbing her hand with her other. It’s broken out in goosebumps. “It didn’t hurt. It was kind of...uh...You know that feeling you get right before you get a static electricity shock? Where your hair stands on end and the air feels thick?”

You nod. 

“It was kind of like that, but. Softer. Made solid. Oh, and cold, your skin is very cold.” She explains. She reaches her hand out again, and you lay a palm across it. She covers it with her other hand and smiles, exhaling a shaky breath. “Wow,” She says, “Just...holy shit. Wow. I’ve just completed like, five life goals at once.” Her darkly winged eyes sparkle in the blue glow from your body. You’ve overjoyed. They can  _ see  _ you, you’ve got a  _ semi-tangible  _ body back...yet, Suzy is still the only one in the room to actually ask about you. Dan looks wide-eyed at paralyzed, Ross is hanging back with a carefully guarded neutrality, and Arin looks like he’s going to be sick. You turn your eyes to him, slowly letting go of Suzy’s hand to phase through the countertop towards him. He flattens even more against the wall, a stray piece of hair hanging in front of his eyes. 

“Hi.” You say, nervously.

It takes him a moment to respond. “...Hi.” He replies in a gruff and guarded voice. His eyes flick up and down your glowing blue and white body with the same caution as a cornered faun. “You’re...real.”

A spark of irritation jolts up your spike. “Yeah. I hoped you would have figured that out before now.” You let a little bit of irritation seep into your voice. Not because you were truly mad, but because from what you had seen of Arin, he was a loud and rambunctious person not easily made to back down from a challenge. 

Arin’s mouth twists. “ _ I’m  _ not the one whispering in people’s ears about numbers and making them think they’re crazy.” He bites back.

You quirk a blue eyebrow.  _ There  _ it is. There’s the fire. 

“Well, you’re not crazy now, are you?” You reply, and offer him a hand. You see that same flash of exhausted fear for just a moment before he cautiously takes your hand in a feather-light grasp, visibly relaxing when nothing happens. As he shakes it with more gusto, he tilts to the side and talks to Suzy over your shoulder.

“Hey Suz, I’m kind of wishing you didn’t drag me in to work today.” He deadpans, and Suzy laughs. You smile crookedly too; he didn’t say that out of malice. More as someone who had just escaped a very dangerous situation, and was riding the shaky high of coming out alive. You knew that feeling: you yourself were riding the high of visibility, of validation and acceptance. It filled you with relief. The room was much less tense.

And then there was, of course, Dan. Despite it being you who was the one with no memory, after handling Suzy and Arin so well, it felt like your responsibility to diffuse the puffy-haired man’s emotions as well. And you knew just what to say. You slipped your hand out of Arin’s firm grasp and turn to the tall man who was standing rigidly in the doorway. 

“Kind of a dick move to punch yourself in the ribs like that, dude.” You say, taking a step towards him. After a few moments of him staring wide-eyed at you, his face splits into a grin and he drops his head in defeat, softly chuckling to himself. You hesitate, a little concerned. 

“Uh...Dan?” You ask, inching closer.

“So,” He laughs, “So lemme get this straight. You’re a ghost.” You nod. “And your bone, is in my body. So we’re like,” His lip quivers in odd humor, “Fuckin’, ‘soul-bound’ or some shit?” 

For some reason, this makes him hang his head again, shoulders shaking. Okay, maybe bringing up the rib thing wasn’t such a good idea. 

“Ho-ly shit.” He says after a moment, nodding his head, “This is just. This is fucked, you know that right? This is totally and completely fucked.”

You get it now, his easygoing laughter about the situation. He’s terrified. He’s terrified about ghosts being real, terrified of the fact that there is some paranormal bone in his body, terrified that he’s forced into a connection with someone he doesn’t even know. He’s terrified. And he’s exhausted. 

You cast your eyes downwards. “Look, dan.” You say softly, and he freezes at his name. “I’m...I’m scared too. I don’t know who you are, I don’t know why this is happening, but. I just got a  _ body back _ after thinking I would never been seen or touched by anyone again. I know...that this sucks. But please, please help me make the best of it. At least until we can figure out how to get us separated.”

Dan is quiet, face gaunt and pale in the flickering blue light of your body. He looks too thin; around the sockets of his eyes, skin stretched over his temples, collarbones jutting out under his shirt. For a minute you see an old man who has does nothing but work his whole life. Then he rubs a hand down his face, exhaling. Nodding slowly.

“Alright.” He gestures with his hands in defeat. “Alright, fine. You win with your goddamn speech. I can’t top that.” For the first time, it was he who stuck his hand out in a gesture of friendship. You grasp it firmly, and let out a snort; his bony hands are so big they practically swallow yours up as you shake them. 

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” He deadpans, “Just don’t fun of the thumb.”

You didn’t notice it until he pointed it out, but now it takes all your steely resolve to not laugh out loud. Suddenly a throat clears a few feet away from you; it’s Ross, leaning against the wall, arms folded. He makes a gesture with his hand clearly stating,  _ Excuse you, where’s MY friendly camaraderie and firm handshake?  _  Your eyebrows go up as you stare at him.

“Please, Ross, we all knew you were fine with me the second I got here.” You say. It was true. You never really thought about it, since he flinched in fear on the ouija circle, but he was never truly afraid. He never wanted you gone. Hell, you were probably just like a real life DnD fantasy to him. 

He opened his mouth to object, the shut it again. “Yeah, ‘s fair.” He replied. Instead of a handshake, he just put a hand up in the air, and you hand the pleasure of giving your first enthusiastic ghost high five. It was a good, crisp one. A few sparks flew.

“Hell yeah! That was really weird!” Ross chirped enthusiastically. You can’t help but smile. He has a minecraft parody t-shirt on, as well as a tablet glove you didn’t notice.You think you might like this guy. A clap brings your attention back to Suzy.

“Well,” She says, redoing her messy bun, “Let’s go flip that breaker back on and see how badly the computers got messed up.  _ And  _ have a community meeting afterwards.” She tacks on, seeing Arin open his mouth and raise a finger. He looks pacified, and the four humans in the room wearily start to fumble through the dark workplace to get the lights back on.

You square your shoulders. Sure, things might not be perfect. They may be  _ far  _ from perfect. But, you’re in a better place than you were twenty minutes ago, and in life, that’s all that matters. 

Maybe, just maybe. Things are going to turn out ok. 


End file.
